Still Hanging On
by carolynnsmomma20132
Summary: This is based on real life events and is not suitable for people under the age of 18. Contains abuse (mental, emotional, and physical) and some rape/child abuse. Please proceed with caution as this story will be very dark at times. Bella reflects on her life and the things that have made her the woman she is today. This will chronicle her life from childhood to now. (HEA/AH)
1. Chapter 1

I own the story and events only. The characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, I'm just using them to tell my story. This will be a dark and angst filled story for the most part, if that's not your cup of tea then please don't read it. No bashing please.

Still Hanging On Chapter 1- Intro and Prologue

I feel like my whole world is caving in. I'm lost in this struggle to let everyone in. Things seem okay to those who know not. On the inside I'm screaming for things to stop. Once again I'm lost in this struggle between right and wrong, stuck at the crossroads between love and hate. My life seems so fake and so forced with every step that I take. No real reason to keep going on, but somehow I'm still hanging on.

I'm still hanging on to my dreams and the love that I feel. Life is hard and complicated. Things never seem to work out the way you want. My life has been a mess for as long as I can remember. It's always one thing after another dragging me down, keeping me low and unfulfilled. Dreams have come and gone and I have nothing to show for the life that I lived, but somehow I'm still hanging on.

My story does not start out as a happy one, but near the end I seem to straighten myself out. This story will chronicle my life through my eyes. Things will not always be pleasant (in some they will be very hard to read), but in others it can and will be quite funny and happy. I will not say that I made all the right choices in my life because I sure as hell didn't. I don't know yet how far back this will go, but I hope you enjoy the ride right along with me.

My name is Isabella Marie Cullen, though I've had a few other names as well. I have been Isabella Marie Volturi, Isabella Marie Newton, and Isabella Marie Black. I'm going to talk you through my journey as each of these names and show you how with each name I have been hurt by those closest to me and how they shaped me into the woman I am today. Most of the memories I will tell you about are not pleasant nor are they for those with a weak stomach, as they can be quite disturbing for most people. Please bare with me as I take you through each memory and as I learn from each of the mistakes I have made.


	2. Chapter 2 Isabella Marie Volturi Part 1

**AN: This Chapter contains child abuse, molestation, and rape. There is another AN right before that part. If you can't or don't want to read it then please don't. You will not miss anything major in the story. Thanks! **

Still Hanging On: Chapter 2- Isabella Marie Volturi Part 1

The first part of my story takes awhile to tell. I was Isabella Marie Volturi for 19 years before my name changed. It may take me awhile to tell you everything, because the years that I was a Volturi were the hardest years of my life. Things were not very pleasant for most of them and these next few stories may come as a shock to a lot of people. I'm not proud of the things I did as a Volturi, but maybe you can see how and why I did them when you hear how I grew up.

I was born to Aro Volturi and Renee Higginbotham. They had only been married a year when I was born. My mom was running from her father and mine saved her. I didn't really know my father until I was about 6. I honestly didn't think I had a father until then. My parents divorced when I was two and my mom and I moved back to her hometown in North Carolina. I remember the day I met my father for the first time very vividly. I was down the street from my grandma's house playing with my friend Seth. We were jumping on his trampoline and my grandpa came to his house and told me I had a visitor at our house (my mom and I lived with my grandma). I remember walking to the house with my grandpa and seeing a green Ford truck in my driveway. Somehow I knew instantly that it was my dad. I started running and as soon as I saw him I hugged him. I found out later in my life that he was there to file for custody of me.

The next time I saw my dad was at my kindergarten graduation. He told me that he wanted me to come and live with him and his new wife Sulpicia in Witchata, Kansas. I was 6 at the time and didn't really understand what he was saying. I remember sitting at the court house waiting for my mom to tell me that we could go home, but it was my grandma telling me that we needed to pack my toys and clothes so I could go live with my dad. I was scared and sad because I didn't want to leave my mom. Little did I know that I wouldn't see my mom again until I was 9 years old.

The first year I lived with my father wasn't so bad. He had his own restaurant and it was doing very well. We had a very nice house with a big basement. I loved going down to the basement to play. My first Christmas with them was very fun. My father had everything set up downstairs in the basement. He and my step-mom had gotten me a play kitchen and I loved it. Things didn't start getting bad until my father lost his restaurant. When he lost the restaurant he went down a very dark path. He started drinking heavily and smoking cigarettes a lot. To the best of my knowledge he never did any illegal drugs. We had to let our house go back to the bank because we couldn't afford to keep it. We ended up moving from Witchata, Kansas to Branson, Missouri the summer before I started second grade. Sulpicia's mom and stepdad lived there and ran a hotel. I liked when I was able to stay with them because my Nana Lisa let me swim in the pool. During the summer, Sulpicia told me that she was going to have a baby sometime after Christmas. I was excited to get a younger sibling. My father seemed like he was excited too, but at the same time something about him was off.

**AN: This story contains somewhat vivid details of child abuse and molestation. If you can't read that then please, skip the next few paragraphs. **

I remember the first time my father molested me like it was yesterday. My stepmom was at work (she was the only one working at the time). My father had let me go outside and play, but told me to come back in when it started getting dark. When I came back inside he was sitting in his recliner watching a movie and asked me to come and sit in his lap. I did because it was rare that my father showed me any kind of affection. I could feel his erection starting to poke me in the butt and tried to move away from it because it felt weird. My father held me in place and took my hand and placed it on his erection. He made me jack and suck him off and made me swallow his cum. I was only 7 at the time.

After the first time, my father started making me suck him off every time my stepmom went to work. He made me do many things to him. His favorite was making me lick his butthole area and then kissing me. He also made me watch porn with him and try and mimic what the people were doing. He was never able to penetrate me, but it wasn't for lack of trying. He tried many times to have anal sex with me but I would wiggle and try to get away from him. My father is a very sick man, and to this day still makes excuses for what he did to me. The molestation continued for two years.

Most kids I know are punished in some way, whether it's by spanking or grounding, we have all been punished. Well when I was a child spanking and grounding were only things I had heard about for punishments. My punishments were quite a bit more severe. I was never just spanked; I was beat black and blue with a 3"x3" pizza paddle. I wasn't grounded; I was made to stand in the corner on a stepstool on my tip toes until I was allowed to get down. I was never able to have the hot meals that they had. My meals consisted of corn flakes with water instead of milk for breakfast, bologna sandwiches, with a glass of water for lunch and dinner. I was never given anything more than that. I had a very weak bladder and would have accidents quite often (then again who wouldn't with all the things I was put through). Because of these accidents I was made to stand in the shower overnight one weekend without sleeping. If I even moved I was doused with ice cold water to wake me up. Once he sent me to school in a Pull Up because I had had an accident the night before. That was the first and last time Child Services was called on my father.

The only time that Child Services came to my home, my father was on his best behavior for the lady. I was still being punished for something and had been told when I got home from school I was to stand on my stool in the corner. The child services lady was there when I got home, but I didn't think anything of it. I went to my corner and did as I had been instructed. When my father was asked what I was doing he said, "She just does that." He then told me I could get down and go play quietly in my room. The lady came in my room to talk to me and asked me what I had eaten that day and I told her the truth about my diet. She made my father make me a hot meal. After she left I got the beating of my life. I was unable to go to school the next day because of how hard he hit me.

A few days later my father pulled me out of school and took me to an office building. He told me he was leaving me there because I was a problem child and that Sulpicia didn't want me in the house around the baby anymore. I cried for hours it seemed like and was finally placed in a foster home.


End file.
